The Case of the Vindictive Spirit
by reflekshun
Summary: Is an ancient spirit bent on revenge responsible for murder?
1. Chapter 1

The Case of the Vindictive Spirit, Chapter the First.

a/n- Thank you to everyone who read and reviewed, and to Medcat for vetting this story.

"What! Mycroft, you must be joking," said Holmes.

"Not at all. You and the good doctor need to pack for a two-week vacation to the aforenamed castle, which is in Gloucestershire. There is a legend linked with this castle, and it plays a part in the murder that I am asking you to look into." It was with a great effort that Mycroft did not say "I told you so."

"Tell us about it, then."

"Very well." Mycroft cleared his throat and began. "Many years ago, the lady of the castle, Lady Viola Rittenmark, went insane. It was rumoured that the discovery of her husband's

dalliances hastened her decline into madness, but, as I have said, that is just a rumour. Her husband kept her locked up within the castle. One day, she somehow escaped and ran to the pond at the edge of the property and threw herself in. Her husband lost no time in marrying his favorite mistress. On their wedding night, the new Lady Rittenmark made a horrible discovery. She found her new husband waiting for her in bed, but he was dead. He had been stabbed in the chest. The weapon was never found. The only sign that someone else was in the room with him were the wet prints of bare feet. They started at the balcony and stopped at the bed. Then they led right back to the balcony. Three other Lords of the castle met the same fate through the years, and each one was said to have a reputation for being unfaithful."

"Did the agent share such a reputation,"asked Holmes.

"There is no concrete knowledge of any infidelity upon his part, but perhaps his killer thought differently, or knew something that we do not,"answered Mycroft.

While the two brothers were talking, Watson was busy packing as well as listening.

"How did the two agents happen to be staying at the castle", asked Watson.

"They were both friends of the castle's owner, and they had arranged to stay there that night, as the castle lets out rooms to travelers,"responded Mycroft.

"Have these deaths occurred in the same bedroom, or in different rooms throughout the castle?" inquired Holmes.

"They happened in different places in the castle. One was in a bedroom on the third floor, one was in the kitchen,one was in the chapel, one was in the belltower, believe it or not, and the last was in a bedroom on the fourth floor. I have made arrangements for one of you to stay in the same room that the last death occurred, and for the other to stay in the adjoining room. The castle's owner is aware that you are going to be investigating this death. I did not mention this, but he was shrewd enough to guess. Both of you have time to agree on a cover story of your own choosing. I wish the two of you good luck."


	2. Chapter 2

a/n I hope that you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed putting it together. A big thank you to all who read and reviewed, and you know who you are. Also, a big thank you to Medcat for vetting this story.

The Case of the Vindictive Spirit, Chapter the Second.

Watson was almost down the front steps when he heard quick steps behind him. He turned and Mrs Hudson thrust a package into his arms.

"You'll want some good home cooking before you've gone too far. Here are some sandwiches and apple pie. Have a good journey and come back safe and sound. Both of you."

"Come on, Watson. We'll miss our train. Good-bye, Mrs. Hudson. We will see you in two weeks," called Holmes from inside the cab.

Watson pushed their suitcases into the hansom, and then slid in himself.

"Now, tell me who I am, and who you are,"prompted Holmes.

"You are my wealthy employer and your name is Andrew Stuart. My name is William Ellison, and I am your valet,and have been for the past fifteen years. We are currently on holiday, and I guess we improvise from that foundation."

"Let's use our assumed names. We need to get used to using and responding to them, alright, William?"observed the detective.

"All right,Master Andrew. No,no,no. Do not jump when I straighten out your tie. You need to act natural, like I do this all the time. It is part of my job to make sure that you look your best." As he said this, Watson was adjusting the detective's tie. "How in the world did you get this twisted like this.......oh, there you go. "

"You are right," Holmes said with a sigh. "I will try."

Finally, when the sandwiches and pie were naught but fond memories, Holmes had read and reread his book on the roots of an obscure language and Watson had finally read that novel that he had been wanting to finish, and both were bored beyond the scope of speech,they got to their stop.

"We seem to be stopping, William."

"I have been packed in here with you and the luggage for so long I am not sure if my legs still work. I cannot feel them."

They shared a chuckle at that, got their bags, and Holmes helped Watson out on to the platform.

"For good or ill, we have arrived. Let us look for an available cab. Ah, here's one.....have you got the bags, William?"

"Yes, I can manage,"said Watson with a thin smile, which was hidden behind a mound of suitcases. "Did we have to pack EVERYTHING in the house? I half expect to find Mrs. Hudson in here somewhere."

"If you find her in there, ask her to make another pie, will you? That woman knows how to make a good pie."

After a seemingly endless cab ride, they finally arrived at the castle. Holmes led the way after they got out of the cab. Watson trotted behind him following the sound of his voice. He looked for all the world like a heap of suitcases with legs.

When they got to the door they were shown to their rooms by an elderly servant named Mrs. Peabody. She was a friendly woman. A short, stout butterball of a woman, she chattered happily to herself incessantly. She did the housecleaning as well as the cooking.

"Dinner is in half an hour, gentlemen. I think you'll like it.....There's nice hot soup, that goes good on a cold day.....and you'll like dessert. Looks like you have a sweet tooth, Master Ellison, but I don't know about you Master Stuart. I've got a lovely peach cobbler....."

She led them to their rooms, cheerily talking all the way.

"Well, I need to take my leave of you gentlemen, but if you find yourself needing anything, just ring the bellpull, dearies. Ta. I don't have time for two tas. Hehehe......

The sound of her voice and the patter of her steps grew fainter and finally disappeared.

"She will never want for company", ventured Watson.

"I will not argue with that,"agreed Holmes.

As they entered Holmes' room, they found an older man in a butler's outfit. He was tidying up. "Ah, you have arrived. I trust that you had a pleasant journey. Master Stuart, this is your room, and your room is right over there, Master Ellison. My name is Peabody. If you need anything, just let me know". He bowed and left the room.


	3. Chapter 3

The Case of the Vindictive Spirit, Chapter the Third

Twenty-five minutes later found Holmes and Watson descending the ornate stairway. Mrs. Peabody was arranging the table settings.

"Just finishing up, m'dearies," she told them. "How does it look?"

"Fit for a king,"Holmes assured the diminutive woman.

"Oh, thank you, m'dearie, thank you."

Holmes and Watson both liked this person. Her cheerfulness seemed to be contagious if you were in her presence long enough.

As the other guests filed in and found their seats, Holmes and Watson also started looking at place cards to find their seats.

"Ah, here we are, William. You are directly next to me."

They both sat down at the appropriate places. Mrs. Peabody brought their soup first. By the time she was finished, the rest of the guests had come to the table and sat down.

There were eleven other guests besides Holmes and Watson. They were Major and Mrs. Porter, Professor and Mrs. White and their twins Jonathan and Judith, Cassandra and Patience Brownlee, and Diana and Kenneth Prentice. The Prentices brought their lapdog with them.

Major Porter was in his thirties. He had bright green eyes, a deep tan, and an unruly head of deep brown hair. Standing six feet three inches tall, he could be an imposing fellow if he was so inclined.

As petite as her husband was tall, Mrs. Porter was a delicate and graceful woman with a distinctive laugh, which she used often. She was so small, at four feet nine, that she was sometimes mistaken for a young girl at first glance.

Professor White was a stout little man, about five feet tall. He had a fiery temper when he was provoked, which was not very often. He had a full head of red hair, and a pair of vivid blue eyes.

His wife had beautiful long auburn tresses which were held in place by an ornate comb. She was about five feet tall, and gifted with that special talent that all mothers have, The Look. If the twins were unruly, she could correct them with just a glance. It never seemed to work

when her husband tried it. Her eyes almost always had a twinkle in their brown depths.

The twins were small in stature like their mother. They also had auburn hair, and two pairs of brilliant emerald eyes. They loved practical jokes, which was a good outlet for their mischievous streaks. They could be running around, getting into all sorts of things, but the mere presence of their mother could make them as meek as lambs. Jonathan was slightly taller and a little more portly than Judith.

Miss Cassandra and her sister, Patience, were both tall blondes with blue eyes. Although both were quite striking, they were unmarried and seemed to have a fascination with Holmes, much to his discomfort.

Diana and her husband Kenneth Prentice were yet another study in opposites. She was taller by a foot than her husband, who absolutely doted on her. Mrs. Prentice was also a perfectionist who never tired of pointing out the perceived failings of others,usually homing in on her husband, who took it with good humour. She did not point out these things in a malicious manner, but simply as more information about a person. She loved to gossip, too.

Her husband was an easygoing man. His blue eyes were almost always twinkling with the joy of all the things about him.

Everything seemed like a treat to him. Though only about five feet tall, he was rather stout. He carried himself with an air of confidence, and was very easy to talk to.

And now we come to the Prentices' lapdog, who was a red Pekingese named Tuffy. Today he was sporting a black leather collar studded with blue stones. He did not seem to actually dislike anything or anyone, and was blessed with the natural curiosity of his breed. He was usually found lying by his mistress or seen trotting at her side with his favourite red ball in his mouth.

Bruce McClintock, the castle's owner, joined us for dinner. He was tall and thin with brown hair and eyes and a droopy brown mustache, giving him a rather forlorn look sometimes.

A quiet man, he kept his own counsel, and said less than he thought.


	4. Chapter 4

The Case of the Vindictive Spirit, Chapter the Fourth

Bruce, the Castle's owner, stood up, his glass in hand. "Here's to all of you. May you all enjoy the hospitality of Castle Cartwright. I bid you all welcome. If there is anything I can do to make your stay here more comfortable, just tell me." As he sat down, Cassandra Brownlee, who sat next to him, began to speak to him, however she spoke too low for anyone to hear what she was saying.

Watson's attention was directed by a slight nudge to his right leg. He looked down to see Tuffy looking back at him. He had his ball in his mouth, and was waiting expectantly, his tail wagging for all it was worth.

"Hello, little fellow. Oh, what a pretty collar you are wearing, Alright, you. Go get it!"

He rolled the ball a little ways off, and the dog excitedly ran off to retrieve his ball. He returned with the ball in his mouth and sat down to wait for Watson to throw the ball again. Watson had picked up the ball, when a voice at his shoulder piped up.

" There you are. Mama was looking for you. I'm sorry for any bother he caused you, young man." This last was directed at Watson, and he looked up to see Diana Prentice, the dogs mistress, standing there.

"Oh, he is no bother. I think he is cute. Lively little chap, isn't he? Is he still a puppy, or just an active little dog?" Watson began to absently scratch the pup under the chin as he spoke. The dog moved closer to Watson. Clearly he liked the attention.

"I guess you could call him an elderly puppy. Do you have a pup, Mr....."

"Ellison, William Ellison. And whom do I have the pleasure of addressing?"

"I am Mrs. Diana Prentice. I am pleased to make your acquaintance. Allow me to introduce you to my husband, Mr.

Kenneth Prentice." As she spoke, she pulled her husband over from where he was standing to stand by her side. "Ken, I'd like you to meet Mr. Ellison. Tuffy took a liking to him."

"Ah, you have found him then, my dove. I hope that he did not bother you overmuch, Mr. Ellison."

"He was no bother at all. I think he is a delightful little chap, and I rather enjoyed his company."

"Good, good,"enthused Mrs. Prentice.

"Yes, it's a good thing that you get along, for it seems that these are our seats,observed her husband, pulling out her chair for her. She slid into her seat in an easy motion; apparently he made this a habit.

"Allow me to introduce my friend and employer, Mr. Andrew Stuart. Andrew, allow me to present Mr. Kenneth Prentice and his wife, Mrs. Diana Prentice. And this is Tuffy, their Pekingese."

Tuffy heard his name, and poked his head out from behind his mistress' skirts.

Holmes chuckled, and reached down to pat Tuffy, straightened and said "Very good to meet you, Mr. Prentice."

Turning to Mrs. Prentice he said "Charmed, I'm sure."

Mrs. Prentice seemed to feel kindly to people who petted the apple of her eye. Everyone else seemed to be held in a slightly lower regard. Mr. Prentice simply seemed to get along with everyone.

"Master Andrew, the fellow who just walked in—I know him. I don't know if he would even remember me. I used to bump into him in the mess tent back in Afghanistan. He looks like he is coming over, excuse me a moment, please." Watson rose as he finished speaking.

Apparently the Major did remember him, for they began talking and laughing.

Holmes was rather curious about their conversation, but it was about then when someone behind him cleared their throat. He looked up to see a blue-eyed blonde at his shoulder.

"Excuse me, but is this seat taken?"

Holmes looked in vain for a place card, but found none. Drat it all, he was sure there was just one there. Now she would probably sit by him all dinner long. And he'd have to be gracious about it. Oh, but Mycroft owed him for putting him in this situation. Oh, yes. He owed him quite a bit.

Across the room, Patience smiled to herself. She looked down at the place card her sister had slipped her. Andrew Stuart, she read. He was rather good-looking.......she would get her turn. Maybe she might try her luck with his companion, who was having a conversation with the Major. Too bad that HE was already taken. Oh, well.

Miss Brownlee was not the only one watching the conversation between Watson and the Major. Holmes was watching also, with longing in his eyes. He would rather be out there then sitting where he was. He was startled out of his thoughts by the sound of Cassandra, rather pointedly clearing her throat.

"Ah, yes. Woolgathering, I'm afraid." As he pushed her chair in for her, he thought about how long the evening was going to be.


	5. Chapter 5

The Case of the Vindictive Spirit, Chapter the Fifth.

Several hours later, Dr. Watson trudged back up the main stairway. He had, as he called it, a feeling of well-being. In other words, he was a bit tipsy, quite full,and pleasantly tired. He was remembering his conversation with the Major. It had been nice to catch up, and he had enjoyed it immensely.

He was fumbling with the doorknob to Holmes' room when it opened, startling him badly. Strong arms bundled him inside and pulled the door shut.

"Did you see her? Is she out there?" asked Holmes.

" Who are you talking about? Is there someone after you?"

"Cassandra Brownlee. She's bound and determined to snare a husband, and I do not wish to be caught."

Watson began to chuckle and it earned him a black look from Holmes. The chuckles became guffaws and Watson lost his balance completely. Still laughing, he fell onto his back. As he was trying to get up, he noticed that one of his cufflinks was gone. "Oh, bother. And I really like that pair, too."

"Serves you right,"sniffed Holmes.

"Well, there is nothing for it—ugh--but to –ugh—go and—ugh—get it.--ugh. Watson finally reached Holmes' hand and pulled himself up by it. The detective was completely unsuspecting and off—balance. He fell over and glared up at the doctor.

"At least you could come with me to find it."

"Oh,no. I'm not setting foot outside this room until Miss Cassandra Brownlee is well out of range."

"Holmes, you talk about that innocent young girl as if she were a predator."

"She IS, Watson, she is! Do not let that charming exterior fool you, she is as carnivorous as they come."

"Well, then, I suppose I shall have to go by myself, all alone, and look."

"Yes, it seems that you must. Good luck, and don't trip on the stairs."

Watson found himself propelled into the hall, and the door quickly closed behind him. He was left to trudge back down the stairs he had so recently trudged up. They seemed to be steeper now, and there seemed to be more of them than before. Finally he lurched down the last step. He had been looking for the missing cufflink, but it was not on the stairs. Next, he looked under the massive wooden table. No, now wait, what was that sparkling at the end of the table?Watson moved to straighten up and turn around at the same time, but he only succeeded in tripping over his feet, which elicited a chuckle from the doctor. Ah, well, now that he was down here, he might as well crawl on over and pick it up. As he got to it and stretched out his hand, he beheld a sight that made him as sober as a judge. Almost.

A ghostly woman bathed in an eerie glow walked across the room, her bare feet leaving small, wet puddles to show where she had been. She went out on the balcony, swung herself over the railing,and noiselessly disappeared.

Watson, who had forgotten that he was under a table, gave himself a good crack on the head as he hurriedly tried to stand.

With his heart [and his head] thumping in his chest, Watson went over to the window. There was no sign of anyone.

Then the doctor followed the wet footprints to Bruce Cartwright's room. Watson's heart was practically in his mouth as he knocked on the door. It swung open very slowly, creaking all the way. He looked in, and a sight that he would not soon forget met his eyes. Lying on his bed was Bruce Cartwright. Watson might have thought that he was sleeping peacefully if not for the red stain upon the coverlet. Watson touched the man's throat, feeling for a pulse that he knew he would not find.


	6. Chapter 6

The Case of the Vindictive Spirit, Chapter the Sixth.

Sixty seconds later Watson was back at those thrice-damned steps. Taking a deep breath,rather quickly,to be sure, he began to ascend the staircase. He stifled the urge to call for Holmes until he got into the detective's room. His friend was waiting up for him.

"Holmes! You will never believe what happened......."

"Compose yourself, Watson. You look like you saw a ghost. Here, drink this and gather your wits. Then tell me what happened."

Watson accepted the brandy eagerly and downed it in one large gulp. Holmes drew up a chair for him and sat down in the adjacent chair, looking at his friend expectantly.

"Holmes, I had just found my cufflink. I had to crawl part-way under the table to get at it. I had just retrieved it and was crawling back out when I saw feet. Bare feet that were dripping. Do you remember the balcony off the great room? Well, this –she—this woman climbed over the balcony and disappeared. I do not know where she went. I went right over to the balcony and looked, and Holmes, she was gone!I looked over the side and there was no woman to be found. So then I saw the footprints were leading away from the window. They led right to Bruce Cartwright's room. I knocked and there was no answer, so I went in. There he was in bed. I stepped closer to apologise for this intrusion, when I saw the bloody mess on the blanket. He had been stabbed and then covered up. Come on, I'll show you!"

He took Holmes' sleeve and pulled him down the hall to the staircase. They were almost halfway down the staircase when they heard a loud scream ahead of them. Apparently someone else had stumbled upon the room's sole occupant, and it sounded like it was Mrs. Peabody. As they approached, they heard Mr. Peabody speaking soothingly to his wife.

"Cushla, {1},my dear, cushla. Shhh, that's right. Now gather your thoughts, that's a good lass."

Holmes and Watson had just skidded to a halt beside Mr. and Mrs. Peabody.

"Oh, sirs, don't look, it's awful! Somebody kilt Master Bruce!" warned Mrs. Peabody.

"Don't let anyone in there, dear."Mr. Peabody instructed his wife.

"And how am I supposed to do that?"

"If anyone goes in there, stand in the hall here and scream blue murder. That ought to rattle their slats."

Turning to Holmes and Watson, he said,"Before I go for the police, I think you ought to have a look-see, sirs."

"What makes you think so?"

"Master Bruce, God rest his soul, {the Peabodys crossed themselves at this} told me you and your valet were investigators from London. It did not take a lot of imagination to figure out who you were, , just a copy of the Strand. The pictures are a good likeness of you both. The wife and I will keep mum, and won't tell anyone."

"I see. Thank you for keeping our secret. Does any one else know?"ventured Holmes.

"No, just the Missus and I. The Master never could control his tongue when he was in his cups, God rest his soul. Now I think you'd best take a look in there before anyone else comes to see what the wife was screaming about."

"Very good idea," said Holmes, stepping into Mr. Cartwright's room. Watson followed a moment later, taking notes periodically.

The occupant of the bed was lying in a supine position under the covers. The stab wounds were confined to his chest area. There were wet footprints leading to the bed, and from the bed back to the balcony in the next room.

"Holmes, look here! I have found the murder weapon. And it explains why the murder weapon in the other cases was absent." Watson held up a thin, sharp icicle, which had a bloodstained tip.

{1} cushla—be still.

Thank you to everyone who read and reviewed, and thank you to Medcat, who vetted this story.


	7. Chapter 7

The Case of the Vindictive Spirit, Chapter the Seventh.

Watson heard the Pekingese before he saw him. Tuffy trotted right to Watson and dropped his red rubber ball at his feet. "The Prentices are near. Are you almost done in there, Holmes?" hissed Watson in a whisper. "Just finished, old man,"came the reply as Holmes joined Watson and the Peabodies in the hall. A few moments later, the Prentices came into view.

Mrs. Prentice went straight to Mrs. Peabody, who was dabbing at her eyes with her apron.

"You look like you had a bad shock, dear. Whatever is the matter?"

Mrs. Peabody sniffed and dabbed at her eyes. "It is Master

Bruce. Someone killed him--right in this very room!" Mrs. Peabody motioned to the open door.

Mrs. Prentice looked in. She saw all she wanted to see after a few minutes of craning her neck in the doorway, and she turned back to Mrs. Peabody. Her face was whiter than it had been before. Suddenly, and without warning, she fell into a dead faint, toppling back into Holmes' arms. He then crumpled to the floor beneath the stricken woman.

Cassandra Brownlee saw this and smiled. She was in the hall, but had not stepped out of the shadows yet. Mrs. Prentice had given her an idea, and she would attempt it, but it would have to be done carefully and at exactly the right time.

Patience was walking beside her sister, and rolled her eyes. Cassandra just never gave up.

From down yet another hall, there came a voice. " Hoy there, what's going on ?" The Major's voice floated down the hall to the small group.

"There's been a murder,"piped up Mrs. Peabody. The buzz of excited chatter came closer. "Did she say murder?" "Murder? Who was murdered? "Do you think it is safe to go down there?" "Safer than staying up here and running into the murderer." Walking toward them were Mr. and Mrs. White, accompanied by Major Porter and his wife.

The Major spoke up, his voice ringing off the walls of the stone corridor. "Murder, you say? Who has been killed? Has anyone gone and summoned the Authorities?"

"Just leaving now, sir." said Mr. Peabody, shrugging into a jacket which Mrs. Peabody held for him.

"Now you be careful. Here's your lantern. Come straight back, mind. No dilly-dallying."

"Yes, Mother,"came the reply, although it was muffled by the striped scarf she was wrapping around his neck.

She gave him a peck on the cheek. Then he took his lantern and disappeared into the fog.

"It is a twenty minute walk from the castle to the village from here."said the Major. In less than an hour the authorities should be here. Until then, let us adjourn to the library." The Major seemed to be regarded as the leader of the group, noticed Watson. He was glad of it, for the chap had a good head on his shoulders. The group filtered into the library.

"We had better be getting back to our room before the twins wake up and find us gone. We had just got them to sleep when we heard the screaming, so we came down here with the Major and his wife to see what was the matter," . explained Mrs. White.

Watson saw the red rubber ball roll into the library and come to rest by his chair. A moment later, Tuffy skittered into view. Upon seeing his toy, he scooped it up and looked up at Watson hopefully.

"All right, little fellow. Give it here, thatta boy."He went to the library door and rolled the ball down the hall. The little dog ran excitedly after the ball, his pitter-patting paws echoing down the hall as he ran. Watson chuckled to himself and went back to his chair.

Watson was looking at the people around him when he felt paws on his knee. "Well, now, young man, what do you suppose you want?"

As Watson looked down, he saw a red smear on his trousers. All four of the Pekingese' feet were bloody. Watson motioned to Holmes to come closer and spoke in a low voice.

"It seems that there is another body out there that we have

not yet found."


	8. Chapter 8

The Case of the Vindictive Spirit, Chapter the Eighth.

Watson spoke to the Major in a low voice. " Perhaps you

would care to relate a few of your adventures to everyone to pass the time until Mr. Peabody gets back with the authorities."

"Yes, yes, that is a capital idea. Where are you going?"

"I' ll explain later."

Holmes and Watson slipped out into the hall and closed the library door.

"Which way did you roll the ball?"asked Holmes.

Watson was already sprinting down the hall. "Down this way.....look in here!"

Holmes ducked into the room that Watson had disappeared into. It was rather dark, but enough moonlight made it into the room to reveal a body sprawled on the floor.

A very small body-surely not one of the twins! Watson steeled

himself and looked closely. He looked at Holmes and said"It is not one of the children, Holmes. It is the Major's wife!"

Mrs. Porter was sitting on the floor as if someone had backed her into the corner and she had slid down the wall, perhaps after the attack. After closer inspection, it appeared

that she had been stabbed in the abdomen several times. She had bled profusely, and there was a large pool of blood in front of her.

"Holmes, what do you make of it?"whispered Watson, who was kneeling beside the still form.

Holmes looked was about to answer when he noticed that his friend's eyes had widened. He quickly looked over his shoulder, but they were alone with the body.

"What is it?"

"Holmes, I'm getting a very slight pulse!"

Now that Watson had something to work with, hope replaced grief upon his features. He seemed changed, and Holmes never got tired of seeing the transformation. Now he was a healer with a purpose, and not just a helpless observer.

"I'll get your bag,"Holmes said, already starting to skid around the corner into the main hall. " I'll see about hot water and bandages."

Several minutes later, Watson heard footsteps in the hall. As they drew closer, Mrs. Peabody spoke up. "Don't be alarmed, Doctor. Mr. Holmes said that you needed hot water and bandages. I came with both of them, a pot of tea and scones, and a heavy afghan." She came into view, pushing a cart before her. She was followed into the room by Holmes, who quickly thrust the Gladstone bag into the Doctor's hands. Mrs. Peabody wheeled the cart over to the Doctor, and gave him room to work. As he did so, she arranged the tea and scones on the sideboard.

After a while, Watson straightened up. Addressing the others, he said "I do not want to move her far at this time. Could you help me to move her to that divan over there? I don't know when she is going to wake up, she has lost a lot of blood. "I know it isn't quite truthful, but I think that she might be safer if we spread the word that she is dead. That way whoever did this will not come back to finish the job.

"You are right, Watson,"said Holmes. " I feel badly for doing this to the Major, but I think that he would agree with you. I will go back to the library and break the news. I think that the reactions will be very interesting."

Watson put his hand on Holmes' shoulder to stop him for a moment. "Break this to the Major gently, Holmes. This is his wife we are talking about. Good luck." Watson squeezed said shoulder, and then turned back to his patient.

About a half hour later, he finally sat down by Mrs. Peabody. "Well, she is as stable and comfortable as is possible, but she isn't out of the woods just yet. I would love to see her go to a hospital, but we cannot do that now."

Mrs. Peabody spoke up. "My momma, bless her soul, used to say that if you want the dog to bark, you have to feed it. Not that I'm calling you a dog, but it just means that you need to look after yourself, and I have some scones and tea here to help you do that. And there's some hot water and towels to help you clean up. Mrs. Peabody started to put the dirty linens on the cart, along with the used hot water utensils.

" I used Darjeeling tea, as Mr Holmes said that you like it.

Thought that you might like something different. Mam had a lot to say about that. "Esma" she would say, "Esma, variety is the spice of life, and don't forget it."It is an old saw, but it rings true."She had a saying for everything, did my momma. Would you like butter or jam with your scones?

"Oh, just a bit of butter, please." Watson put a little butter on his scone. As he was finishing, he felt two little paws on his knee.

"Oh, no, I shan't forget you. Here you go."

Mrs. Peabody was amused to see the Pekingese lap up tea from a saucer and eat a scone that Watson had torn up for him. After he had eaten, he presented his tummy so that Watson could scratch it. While he had his paws in the air, Mrs. Peabody cleaned them off.

Suddenly, the little dog ran over to the wall. He was wagging his tail excitedly and sniffing at the far wall.

Watson and Mrs. Peabody got up and stood in front of the Major's wife. As they did so, a portion of the wall slid smoothly to the side........


	9. Chapter 9

The Case of the Vindictive Spirit, Chapter the Ninth

I have not posted in a while. My apologies, life just got in the way for a bit. Thank you for your understanding and patience.

Watson's eyes were blinded for a moment by the lantern

held by the person in front.

"Aah, it's just another room,"said a youthful voice. The White twins stepped into the room.

"What are you still doing up, and why are you out of your beds ?" managed Watson, who had slumped against the wall in relief.

"We're exploring," said the child simply, as if that explained

everything. Peering at Mrs. Porter, Jonathan asked "What's wrong with Mrs. Porter? She looks pretty pale."

Judith had been taking in the scene with wide eyes. "It looks as if she has been attacked by someone. That means that...that some bad man is running around."

"Yes, there is a bad person running around here. That is why we need to get you back to your beds. But how did you come to find this passage to begin with?"

asked Watson.

"Well, I saw somebody else use it, of course, so then we went 'sploring after Mama put us to bed." Worry crept over his small face and spilled over into his voice. "You won't tell, will you?"

Watson replied with a chuckle, "Well, if your parents ask, I cannot lie to them, but if they do not, I shall not bring it up."

"Sounds fair to me," said Jonathan. Behind him, Judith nodded in agreement.

"You need to come with me,"said Watson. "I'll take you back to your room. I hope that we will get you back before your parents miss you. Tell me how you discovered these tunnels again, please." Watson had moved to squat before the boy.

"Again?" Jonathan and Judith both rolled their eyes in unison. Grown-ups could be so forgetful, sometimes. "Well,

a few minutes after we were put in bed, someone sneaked into our room. He went over to the bookcase and started taking books out and stuff. Then he got the right one, and the bookcase slid over. We were both quiet, and I guess he thought we were asleep. We waited for about 10 minutes, and then Jud and I went exploring into the tunnel. We walked for about forever, and then we came in here and found you. I guess we'd better get back before Momma decides to check on us."

"Yes, that is a good idea." Watson turned to Mrs. Peabody.

"Mrs. Peabody, would you stay with Mrs. Porter until I get back?"

"Yes, of course. I'll take her back to my room." Mrs. Peabody stood up and picked up the little woman, as easily as picking up a small child. She wrapped a blanket around her charge. Then she turned to face Watson. "Don't worry, I'll take the less-traveled corridors. We'll be all right. Take the wee ones, and tuck them in."

Watson nodded and went over to Judith, who was yawning like a cavern. He put her over his shoulder, where she fell asleep a few minutes later. Jonathan walked over to Watson and took his hand. "Let's do this," he said solemnly to

the doctor. Stifling a chuckle, Watson nodded. He and the two children stepped into the tunnel, and were soon out of sight.

Mrs. Peabody had set Mrs. Porter down, and was feeling the frame of the picture. "There must be a catch here somewhere.....ah, here you are, my lovely." She depressed a switch that was cunningly hidden in the picture frame. The picture swung back into place. As Mrs. Peabody lifted Mrs. Porter over her shoulder, her eye fell upon the scones. With a wistful smile, she was off.

Back in the tunnel with the twins, Watson was nearing the cross-tunnel that led to the children's room. The ground rose slightly and then leveled off. There was a doorway cut into the surrounding rock.

"This is our door," announced Jonathan.

"How can you tell?" asked Watson.

With a grin, Jonathan answered him. "Do you see that yellow "X"right there? The one at the bottom of the door? That is how I marked it with chalk so that we'd know what door was ours when we got back. What are you doing?"

"Trying to open this door."

"Oh, that's easy. Just put the torch back in the bracket, and the door swings open. On the other side, you move the big red book in the bookcase. C'mon, we have been gone for a while now."

"Do you think your parents have missed you yet?" asked Watson.

"No. They check on us from the doorway, but they don't come into the room so that they don't wake us. The bolsters we put in the beds ought to fool them—at least until daylight."

"You...you little scalawags!" laughed Watson, reaching for the bracket. After he had tucked the children in, he found himself in the tunnel again. He began to hum softly as he walked back to the room he had left. He was soon lost in his own thoughts, and did not hear the stealthy footsteps following him. They came closer and closer. Watson was at a cross-tunnel and was trying to remember if THIS was where he was supposed to turn, when a rock connected with his head, and everything went dark.....


	10. Chapter 10

The Case of the Vindictive Spirit,Chapter the Tenth

Plink...plink...plink. The noise of water dripping roused Watson gently. He lay still and listened, gradually becoming more aware. Watson quickly discovered that he was stiff and sore from lying on this cold hard ….what?

After a bit more time had passed, he deduced that he was in a cave. He struggled to sit up, felt rather dizzy, and decided to lie still for a bit. After what seemed like forever, Watson heard the sound of footsteps. Slow, deliberate footsteps.

Meanwhile, back at the library, Holmes was having problems of his own. He drew his pocket-watch out of his pocket for the nth time in the last five minutes.

"Why,dearie, whatever is the matter? You are on tenterhooks." He turned around to find that Mrs. Peabody was standing behind him.

" The mister just got back with the authorities, and the constable wants to talk to you first, Miss Brownlee. He is right across the hall..."

"I'll be back just as soon as I can." said Cassandra as she went over to the room across the hall.

When she was out of earshot, Mrs. Peabody spoke up. "That's not too likely. You should see the constable. We need

to talk, you and I. Let's go out on the terrace." She led the way to the terrace, and turned to speak to Holmes.

"Mr. Holmes, Dr. Watson left to tuck the children in, and he was supposed to come to pick up Mrs. Porter when he got back. That was a while ago, and he has not shown up yet. I'm worried about him, all alone down there in those nasty, dark tunnels. Seeing the quizzical look on his face, she realized that she had not filled him in on everything, and explained it all to him. "I cannot stay for too long, since I need to get back. Would you look and see if the doctor is all right? I have a bad feeling that he needs help." As she spoke, she handed Holmes a flashlight.

"Thank you, Mrs. Peabody. Can you take a moment and show me how to get into these tunnels? I will definitely take a look around".

" But what about Miss Brownlee?"

"As you said, the constable will keep her busy for a while, the poor thing."

"This picture is the entrance that the doctor used. I wish you good luck."

"Thank you, Mrs. Peabody." With that, he disappeared into the darkness. Mrs. Peabody waited a minute and then swung the picture back where it belonged and left.

It was slow going at first, but soon Holmes came across the drag marks made by Watson's heels. It was then that he felt the presence of someone standing behind him.

He whirled around and found himself facing Cassandra Brownlee.

Holmes felt weak in the knees from relief, as he choked out

"Miss Brownlee, what a surprise! Isn't there a constable you need to talk to?"

"Oh, him. No, I have already given my statement." She moved to stand right by the detective. "Every time I think of that poor man that was killed, it just sends a shiver up my spine. It's just so awful!" She caught Holmes in an awkward embrace and buried her face in his shoulder.

Holmes froze. What was the proper thing to do? On one hand, he did not want to deprive her of solace in a truly frightening situation, but then on the other hand, this was deucedly uncomfortable, and should not be encouraged. He was a professional, damn it! And, as such, he did not like to be manhandled. Especially by a woman. They were so unpredictable.

Constance pulled back abruptly. Her eyes were downcast.

"Here I am hugging you, and we just met. I'm so sorry. Please forgive my forwardness. She raised her eyes to his face, looking at him uncertainly.

"While this is a highly emotional situation we ah...find ourselves embroiled in, I must ask you to calm down and be as quiet as possible. There is someone in these tunnels who does not have our best interests in mind."

At the same time, much further down the tunnel, Watson was peering through the gloom, to see if he could ascertain what was out there.


	11. Chapter 11

The Case of the Vindictive Spirit,Chapter the Eleventh

A voice finally broke the silence. "I trust that the accomodations are adequate, Doctor."

"Come over here and I'll show you my appreciation," growled Watson.

"Feisty, are we? Well, I do know how far those restraints you are in will allow you to move, and I'm not that big of a fool that I'd get too close. You are here to accept my appreciation for all the things that you have done for me."

Watson was wondering who the deuce this was. He thought that he had a way to find out. "At least have the nerve to show yourself. But maybe you are too...timid?" He followed this question with a small chuckle. That should do it, he thought.

"You took away the things that were mine, and then you have the gall to laugh at me? Your amusement will come at a high price, Sir!"

Watson was shocked to see Major Porter closing on him fast , and delivering a punch that took his breath away. He was sure that he heard his teeth rattle, too. He could only look up from where he had fallen. He was very disillusioned.

He had looked up to the Major, and had tried to be like him. He was also very angry at himself. How could he have misjudged the man so badly? And what the devil did he mean,

taking things that were his? He thought he should ask, directly after he spat out the blood in his mouth. He did so all over the Major's livid countenance. The Major looked blue murder at Watson for a long minute, and then the mask of Major Porter's calm face slipped into place again.

"What is it that you say I've taken from you?" asked Watson. "Have the nerve to tell me to my face, like a man."

"Tell you? Oh, I'll tell you all right. He laughed a laugh that made the hair on the back of Watson's neck stand on end. Oh, my God, he thought the man has come unhinged!

Meanwhile, further up the tunnel, Holmes asked Cassandra something that had occurred to him earlier. "Miss Brownlee, how did you know where to find me?"

"When you were nowhere to be found, I did not know what to do. Then Mrs. White told me she had seen you going down the hall and into a room at the end of the corridor. Then intuition led me here. The ladies in my family have always been very intuitive, you know." Her eyes grew wide. "Is that a...gun?" Holmes had drawn his gun when he whirled around earlier. He looked at it now. "Why, yes. Yes it is.

Cassandra Brownlee let out a shrill scream.

"Do shush, woman!" He had turned to examine the drag marks again, and had missed seeing Cassandra's faint. When he heard the thud behind him, he was annoyed. "Please do be quiet, Miss Brownlee. These tunnels..." He could see it now. If she went back, she would tell everyone about the tunnels. And if she blabbed in front of the wrong person—No. As distasteful as the thought may be, he had to make sure that she stayed where he could keep and eye on her. "...are a very , very dark place. He pulled her a little closer to him. "You must stay close to me and watch your footing." He hoped that he sounded attentive. This was intolerable. He should not have to put up with this, but he could see why it needed to be done.

Meanwhile, in a cave further up the tunnel, Watson had just come to the realization that he was talking to a totally unhinged maniac. Watson waited till the last Mwahahahaha stopped echoing, and opened his mouth to ask how he had offended him. His antagonist struck before he had a chance to say anything. He heard Major Porter say "I guess I had better spell it out for you, so that you can understand it—Like you don't already know!" He hit the doctor in the face again. This time Watson bit his hand –hard. By the time Watson let the Major, his hand consisted of four fingers and half of a thumb. Holding the injured limb close to him, he ran up the hall alternately screaming and laughing.

He must have regained some control over himself, for he yelled back down "You have not won yet! I will be back!"

"Promises, promises!" yelled Watson up the hall. He listened carefully. He could no longer hear the Major. He must have disappeared into the castle somewhere. Hes ears caught a faint sound. Someone was moving stealthily toward him. They were not too far away when he heard a familiar whisper "Will you cease whispering?"

"Holmes! Down here!" yelled the doctor.

A minute later he heard rapidly approaching footsteps, and a "Do keep up, woman!"

The next thing he heard was Holmes picking the locks on the restraints that held him. As the restraints released their grip, Watson staggered into the light. That was when Holmes saw his bleeding and bruised face.

"Oh, my God, Watson, who has done this to you?"

"Major Porter. Holmes, the man is completely unhinged." said Watson, rubbing his wrists.

"Where is he now?"

"In the castle. Excuse me, old boy." He spat out a mouthful of flesh and blood.

Cassandra, who was looking on, rolled up her eyes and fainted. When no one caught her, she got up, dusted herself off and heaved a disappointed sigh. It had to work sometime, and she hoped it would be soon. She was getting sore.

Holmes and Watson, apparently ignorant of Cassandra's faint, had moved off to the side to talk.


	12. Chapter 12

The Case of the Vindictive Spirit, Chapter the Twelfth

"Holmes, that maniac could be anywhere in the castle. How can we find him before he gets to anyone else?"

"All we can do is to do our best to find the door he used to get back in the castle.

"I believe I have an idea, Holmes, but I need your help to do this,"said Watson.

"All right", said the detective, "What do I do?"

"Come over here. Now, he was standing about here when I let him have his hand back. He was anything but quiet about it. What I need for you to do is to run screaming down that corridor. When it sounds right, I'll yell. The nearest door to where you are should be the one he used. Does that sound all right?"

"Watson, you continue to amaze me. That is a sound idea, if you will forgive that terrible pun."

Feeling foolish, Holmes obliged and ran screaming down the hallway.

"That sounds about right—is there a door near you?"

"Yes, there is."

Holmes heard Watson and Cassandra moving rapidly toward him. A moment later, they came around the corner and stood next to the detective. They found him examining the door.

There was a lock on it. There were three mythical figures in the first row, and three words in the second row. The mythical figures were the Sphinx, the Phoenix, and the Minotaur. Underneath the three figures there were three words. They were "thread", "fire", and "riddle".

Holmes examined the lock for several long minutes. The detective was fairly certain that he knew how to open it. He pressed the appropriate buttons and the door slowly swung open.

"How did you do that, Mr. Holmes?" asked Miss Brownlee.

"Each mythological figure was associated with one of the words in the second row. If you know your mythology, it was rather easy. The Sphinx was associated with the word riddle, the Phoenix is associated with fire, and the Minotaur is associated with thread. Miss Brownlee, I should remind you that we are in a dangerous position. Please be careful."

"I'm not a helpless child, Mr. Holmes. I have two big, strong men here. You'll protect me, won't you?" she asked, looking from Holmes to Watson.

"Yes, of course," said the men hurriedly.

"But you still need to be careful ,"added Watson. "The man that we are trying to apprehend is a desperate individual who may do anything to preserve his liberty. Please stay near us and don't wander, all right, my dear?"

Then it occurred to Cassandra. Of course! For some reason, Holmes was indifferent to her charms. Perhaps he was one of those unnaturals that she had heard about. But the doctor—he was a different story. She moved closer to the doctor and grasped his arm. Holmes looked over, saw this, and rolled his eyes.

"I wonder where he went from here,"breathed Cassandra.

"All we need to do is to follow the drops of blood," sniffed Holmes. "These drops lead us to another door up ahead."

They walked on in silence, for which Holmes was grateful.

When they got to the door, they saw that the lock was similar to the last one that they had encountered. The difference was that the three pictures and the three words were different. The pictures were of a few geese, a pile of papers, and a couple of crows. The words were "murder", "gaggle", and "ream".

"How are we going to open this one?" asked Cassandra.

"Just as we did the last one. Only the clues are different.

Let us see, now...this seems to be fairly simple. The first word is gaggle. The second word is murder, and..." started Holmes.

"And the third word must be ream!" blurted out Cassandra.

"Why, yes, I believe it is,"said Holmes drily. He really disliked being interrupted.

He pressed the appropriate buttons, and the lock disengaged with a click and a groan of metal. Then he heard a loud sound behind him. The detective whirled in time to see a large slab of rock fall from the ceiling, effectively cutting him off from his companions. He was alone in the dark.


	13. Chapter 13

The Case of the Vindictive Spirit, Chapter the Thirteenth

Holmes went over to the rock and knocked on it in several

places. It seemed to be solid, and he could not find any seams in it, either. Well, he still had the lantern. That was something. He slid down the wall, his back against the cool rock. He could not remember being in a more hopeless situation. What should he do now?

To his amazement, Tuffy broke in upon his thoughts. The dog dropped a red rubber ball at the detective's feet and looked up at Holmes expectantly, wagging his tail.

"How did you get in here, little fellow?" Holmes picked up the ball, and the dog's tail wagged faster. "Here you go!" he said, throwing the ball, and going after the dog. He was quite sure that the dog would go home eventually, and show him how to get back into the castle. Then he could come back and

get Watson. That woman could come, too.

Tuffy came bounding back with the ball in his mouth. He dropped it at Holmes' feet, and looked up again. As he did, Holmes scratched behind the dog's ears. The little dog rolled over and offered his tummy, which Holmes scratched also. The detective did not know it then, but he had just made a lifelong friend.

"I really hope that you know this trick. Home, Tuffy. Show me Home." The little dog got to its feet and took off. Holmes found himself hard put to keep the little dog in sight. The dog slowed to a walk , for which Holmes was thankful. They finally came to a wall that had a dog-sized hole in it. A small dog-sized hole. There was no way that he could fit through.

He cleared his throat, took a breath, and heard Mr. Peabody talking to Tuffy.

"Well, well, m'lad, what brings you to our kitchen? I believe that I have a Tuffy-sized bone around here ...ah, here it is. Here you go, little guy."

Holmes cleared his throat again, took a breath and began.

"Mr. Peabody, I'm outside the castle, and I have to get in as soon as I can. It is extremely urgent. I will explain later."

"Yes, lad, I hear you. We will get you in here. Ah..." Holmes could hear Mr. Peabody trying to explain all this to his wife on the other side of the wall. "I don't know, dear. I came into the kitchen to make tea, and there's the dog. I gave him a bone, and then I heard Mr. Holmes, talking behind the wall. He says that he hasta get back in here in a hurry. Dear, d'ya know where my sledgehammer is? That real heavy one?"

"Oh, yes. It is out by the shed. Now, if you're going out to get that, you need to wear your jacket. It's raining out, and you know how you catch cold."

"Oh, relax, Mama. I'll wear me jacket. Now what you can do while I'm gone is to find out where behind the wall he is."

"Thank you, husband." She raised her voice so that Holmes could hear her. "I need to find out where behind the wall you are.

Holmes went over to the crack. "Right here." he said.

"Oh, you're behind the broom closet. Hullo, what's this now?" With a click, part of the wall slid aside, and Holmes found himself looking at Mrs. Peabody.

Meanwhile, Watson was having problems of his own. He had seen the movement of the big rock that was about to come crashing down out of the corner of his eye. He ran to try and prevent it from doing so. He might have gotten there in time if he had started a second or two earlier. After a deep breath, and an equally deep sigh, he turned to his companion. At least, he hoped that he was facing her, but he could not be certain in the inky darkness that they were in.

"We seem to be trapped in here, my dear. Although Holmes will likely try to rescue us as soon as he can. We need to keep our heads about us."

Suddenly, something rushed at the doctor in the darkness and enveloped him in a hideously tight embrace. Off balance, he fell, and on the way down he struck his head on a rock. Then the stars came out just for him.

A few minutes later, Constance got up again. A wonderfully executed faint, dramatic at that—and he missed it. Sure it was dark, but could not anyone tell when a woman collapsed upon them? When was this gonna work?


	14. Chapter 14

The Case of the Vindictive Spirit, Chapter the Fourteenth

Watson groaned and sat up groggily. "Wuh- what happened?" His voice rose in alarm. "Miss Brownlee, are you all right?"

He heard approaching footsteps, and then he heard her speak. "Um, yes. I found a torch in a bracket when I was feeling around the walls. Do you have any matches on you, doctor?"

"Why, yes. I'm sure that they are here—ah! Now, where's the torch? Oh, thank you, my dear. Did I hear you say that you found this torch in a bracket?" With the ringing in his ears,

it was rather difficult to tell.

"Yes, I did. Why, is it important?"

"Well, it might be. And then it might be just wishful thinking. Show me where you found it, will you?" He got to his feet and followed her. She showed him where the bracket was.

Watson held his breath as he felt the bracket. "Yes, there is a catch there..." He pressed on the catch, offering up a silent prayer that he was doing it correctly. Apparently he was, for the wall opened like a door. Constance brushed past him in her haste to see where they were, and Watson followed after her. Neither of them noticed the shadowy figure that followed them in. Stealthily he crept to the door and manipulated the catch that had filled Watson with such joy just a few moments ago.

The door swung silently shut. The figure broke the catch, effectively locking them all in. This done, he followed the doctor and Miss Brownlee, staying in the shadows.

Back at the Peabodys' home, Holmes stepped into the kitchen. "Thank you. How is Mrs. Porter getting on?"

"Oh, sir, she's doing ever so much better. She is resting now, but earlier she got down some tea and a little bit of my chicken broth. I had better catch the mister and tell him not to go out in this weather."

"Too late. Did you know it is raining out there?" said a voice from the hall.

"I'm sorry, dear, but we don't need the hammer anymore. There was a catch on the wall, just under the shelf here, see?

That made the wall move over a little. In all my years here I never noticed that there."

Mrs. Peabody walked over to the detective and felt his hand. "Here, now, sit down and let me get you some hot tea. You are as cold as the grave,my dear..." Still prattling on, she set the table. "Are you all right, Mr. Holmes?"

"Nothing a cup of your tea and a scone won't cure. That last cavern was decidedly chilly. But first I need to find the Major. Have you seen him?"

"No, I haven't. I was wondering about his absence. Another absence I was wondering about was Dr. Watson's. Is he all right?"

"That's one thing I wanted to talk to you about. Watson and I determined that it was the Major who had attacked his wife. He has completely come undone, so we have to be careful. He kidnapped Watson, Watson attacked him, and he ran up the tunnel. I set Watson free from his bonds, and then we all—Watson, Miss Brownlee and I—tried to follow the Major. We got separated by a large rock which slid down to block the tunnel when we opened the second door that we came to. I followed Tuffy to the door that you so graciously opened for me."

"You've had quite a day, and that's no mistake," said Mr. Peabody.

At that moment, there was the sound of a door slamming. Both men jumped, and turned to see Mrs. Peabody standing by the broom closet door.

"If you didn't see me standing here, wouldn't you think I used a door? If I had cracked and tried to murder someone, the last thing I would do is to go home. It would be too easy to find me."

"You mean..."started Mr. Peabody.

"Yes," continued the detective." That cunning devil is still in the tunnels with Watson and Miss Brownlee!"


	15. Chapter 15

The Case of the Vindictive Spirit, Chapter the Fifteenth.

"I have just GOT to sit down somewhere,"moaned Cassandra."

"Now that you mention it, a little break does sound in order." said Watson. He dusted off a rock and patted it, inviting Cassandra to sit down. She did, and he sat down beside her, and cleared his throat nervously.

"There is something that I would like to ask you, my dear," said Watson after some thought.

Cassandra's eyes went wide. She sat and waited with bated breath for him to continue. Had all her hard work finally paid off?

"I put a lot of thought into how I was going to broach this subject, and just coming out with this question seemed the best way to approach it."

This is it, thought Cassandra. Here it comes.

The doctor took both of her hands into his, and looked kindly into her eyes and asked "Why do you pretend to faint all the time?"

Her eyes became wide, her chin trembled, and suddenly she burst into tears. She launched herself at the doctor and cried. After a moment, the doctor started to rub her shoulder and said "There, there, dear. I did not mean to make you cry, and I am very sorry that I did." The doctor fell silent and waited for her to compose herself and give him an answer.

After a while, she sat back, sniffed, and asked "How did you know?"

"Most people do not pirouette first."

"Oh, yes."

"Do you think that you need to pretend to get someone close to you?"

"Uh-huh."

"Dear, the only thing you need to be is yourself. When I look at you, do you know what I see?"

The doctor heard a sniff, and then a small "No."

"I see a beautiful girl."

The tears started up again.

"But that is not all that I see,"said the doctor, talking over the tears. I also see someone who is polite and knowledgeable, as well as a great dancer and someone who will find her own Mr. Right in time without having to pretend."

"Do you really think so?"

"Yes, yes I do."

"I thought that—well, forget what I thought. Thank you for talking to me so kindly. This is really a relief. It was a little difficult to hear at first, but I'm so glad that you were so honest with me." She gave his hand a little squeeze.

"Hasn't your mother ever told you this?"

"No, my momma died when I was four years old."

Cassandra's behavior made more sense to Watson after this admission.

"I'm so sorry to hear that," said the doctor gently. "But one thing escapes me—why are you beau-hunting, pardon the pun?"

Cassandra laughed, a real laugh this time, but it ended in a sob and a sniffle.

"Because I need a man to care for me. I cannot do it alone, and looks only last but for so long. I cannot stand to think that I will be all alone , it frightens me so." She burst into fresh tears.

Watson was stunned at this frank admission. What the deuce was he supposed to say to something like that? He thought for a few minutes while Cassandra sobbed. When she stopped crying, he spoke.

"Miss Brownlee, you have a low opinion of yourself. You are a perfectly capable young woman. Enjoy your freedom, and just be yourself. You'll meet that special someone in time, and then you will wonder why you were worried in the first place."

"You really think so?"

"Upon my honor, I do. Now, dry your eyes, put your chin up, and let us take a look around, shall we?" As he spoke he held out his handkerchief to her. She took it and wiped her eyes. Then she blew her nose with a sound like a ruptured rooster and handed it back. With determination on her face, she started looking around the dimly lit room. It was a large room, and rocks were scattered about.

Suddenly Cassandra spoke up in a quiet voice. "Um, Doctor Watson, could you come here and look at this?"

She took a step backward and ran right into the Doctor, who was coming up the path to see what was the matter.

"What is it, Miss Brownlee?"

In answer, she pointed with a shaking hand.


	16. Chapter 16

The Case of the Vindictive Spirit, Chapter the Sixteenth.

As Watson's eyes became adjusted to the shadows, the object of Cassandra's horror became obvious. It was a skeleton that had been manacled to the wall. It confirmed the doctor's suspicions that this was the castle's dungeon.

"We seem to be in the castle's dungeon, my dear. Stay by me, and we will get through this."

"Do you think that there might be more of them?"

"Yes, I do." He indicated a rock far enough down the path that she could sit on it and not see the gruesome sight. "Why don't you sit down here and rest for a bit, and I'll scout around. I'll be back as soon as I can."

The girl looked into his eyes and after a moment said shakily, "I can be brave and wait for you to come back. Please be careful."

"Yes, I will, my dear." Watson's plan was simple. He would go up the path and hide any skeletons or other gruesome objects out of the way, so that if they stayed on the path they would not encounter those objects. The doctor headed on down the path. As he came to each skeleton, he kept reminding himself, "It is just like the one back in college. Nothing to worry about. I'm just going to have to move you, old chap. Right over there seems a nice place, all right?" He emerged from the boulders wiping his hands on his handkerchief. After about twenty skeletons, he was done. He tried not to think about what had been happening to them.

Wearily, he walked up the path to rejoin Cassandra. Funny, he had not thought it was such a steep grade. Finally, he reached the boulder and couldn't believe his eyes. Cassandra was nowhere to be seen. "Ah, maybe she is stretching her legs." He raised his voice. "Miss Brownlee! Miss Brownlee! I'm back!"

After a few minutes with no answer, Watson admitted to himself that he was now alone, and that Cassandra was gone. He knew who had taken her and why. He did not have to guess at that. Lying on the rock was half of a severed human thumb, rather ragged at the end.

Meanwhile, Holmes and Mr. Peabody had just rounded a corner in the tunnels and came to the first door that Watson, Cassandra, and he had found. Had it only been just a few hours ago?

He hit the correct set of buttons in the correct order and the door moved to let them through. They hurried on past, and sped on to the slab of rock that had fallen down to the floor. In the corner, there was a part of the slab that had crumbled away. With a little help, it crumbled even more, and was big enough to allow them passage through.

"Not a sign of 'em."despaired Mr. Peabody.

"Stay right there! There are very faint signs that we can follow. Come, we must be quick...They went this way..."

Holmes was halfway out of the cavern by the time he finished speaking. He was halfway down the corridor when he

turned a corner and found himself face to face with a grinning skeleton. He did not know it, but it was one of the skeletons that Watson had moved earlier.

After a squawk of surprise, Holmes doubled back to warn Mr. Peabody. No one needed to see that without a warning. He ran smack into Mr. Peabody.

"Oi, you almost ran me down!"

"Ah, yes, I wanted to warn you about the skeleton around the corner. From the looks of it, we are entering the dungeon. This is rather beyond the pale..."

"Lad, we still have people to be found. We need to get a move on together."

Holmes could not help but smile at this. He was glad that the man was going to stay with him.

They continued on in silence, running into the odd skeleton that was peering out from where they had been hastily stashed.

After a bit they came to a pile of boulders.

"Maybe we can scout the lay of the land."ventured Mr. Peabody.

Both men climbed to the top of the top of the boulders to take a look. They saw Miss Brownlee manacled to a rock. She had tape over her mouth, and her eyes were wide.

Before they had a chance to take in more, each man felt a hand clamped over their mouth, and they were being pulled backwards...


	17. Chapter 17

The Case of the Vindictive Spirit, Chapter the Seventeenth

…...and landed in a tangle of arms and legs on the solid ground. Holmes' head whipped around to confront his attacker. He found himself looking into the familiar hazel eyes of his friend. Watson put a finger to his lips.

"Watson, what in the world is going on?" Holmes whispered.

Watson got to his feet and extended a hand to both men. When everyone was standing, Watson spoke in a whisper.

"While Miss Brownlee was alone, the Major kidnapped her. I am not sure if he is armed, and I do not know where he is. I do not think it is far, though. He has let me know that it is in retaliation for my assault upon his person. Holmes, I'm really glad to see both of you. How did you get down here"?

Holmes explained all that had transpired since they were separated.

"You mean that that poor dog is running around down here?"

"Nae, lad. Last time I saw him he was headed for a comfortable chair with one of the Missus' s soupbones."

"That's a relief. I'm very fond of the little guy." whispered Watson.

"He grows on you, doesn't he?"

"Yes, he's very good at that. Do you think it's safe to take another look?" whispered Holmes.

"Yes, if we are careful. Did you hear that?"asked Watson.

Actually, since the acoustics were so good, it was impossible not to hear it, because the Major had one of those big, booming voices that you just couldn't ignore. He wanted them to hear that he had returned to taunt his captive. And he wanted Watson to know it.

"Well, my dear, where is your friend now? Halfway to London, I expect. Sneaked out on you and left you sitting there, defenseless, didn't he? Gone as soon as things looked bad, huh? Oh, forgive me, I forgot." He ripped the tape off her mouth, eliciting a yowl and a glare.

"He's not like that at all! He's a gentleman and a friend, not that you would know anything about that! He will be back, and then..."

The Major leaned in close and hissed evilly "Of course he will be back, and I simply cannot wait. I have so many delightful things to do, and then I can turn my attentions to you, my dear."

With that, the Major slapped Constance so hard that her head hit the wall behind her. She moaned softly and went limp in the restraints. The Major laughed. He turned slightly to look around. He really shouldn't have because that is when Constance sprang into action and kneed him in the groin so hard that the three men watching flinched. He went down like a bag of rocks. While he writhed in agony, she kicked him further from her. He landed in a heap, while Constance hurridly escaped the restraints and ran off.

After a moment or two, the Major tried to get up. As soon as he had gained his feet, he took off after her, all thoughts of stealth forgotten.

As he ran among the rocks, he came to an inescapable conclusion—she had slipped away and was gone. This was just another thing Watson had taken from him. Oh, how he hated that man! But things would go his way again, and he would make him pay, and pay dearly. And he might even let her watch. Then he could have his fun with her. It wasn't like he was married, or anything like that. He could do as he pleased. Then, when he got tired of her, he could wring her neck like the chickens on the farm back home. Now those were good times. Yes, things would change and go his way again, and soon. Now, the first thing that he had to do was find that she-devil. Ah, yes. Well he liked his women with a bit of spunk. Maybe not THAT much, but he could always wear her down. And he might just start now.

He picked up a nearby rock, and moved purposefully forward, keeping to the shadows.


	18. Chapter 18

The Case of the Vindictive Spirit, Chapter the Eighteenth.

Constance ran until she simply had to rest. She slipped in between two large rocks. As her eyes adjusted to the dark, she realized that she had backed into—what? It didn't feel like a rock. She turned her head and found herself face-to-grinning-face with a skeleton. She quickly decided that she really wasn't that tired and took off again.

She did not realize that she was not alone until someone reached out and dragged her backwards into the darkness. A hand clamped over her mouth.

Constance bit down hard on the hand over her mouth.

"Constance, my dear, that hurt. You are among friends, so if I let go and take my hand away, will you stay silent and stay here?"

Constance nodded. She had begun to relax when she had recognized the doctor's voice. Then the hand that was over her mouth released her, and she whirled and hugged the doctor.

"I was so scared, and then I got angry..." She began to sob softly.

"You were brilliant, my dear. I never saw such a realistic faint," whispered Watson.

"I can't believe that he fell for that. Of all the people that I have tried to fool into thinking that I fainted, I never thought I would try to make a maniac fall for it."

"And you did it impeccably!" whispered Holmes. Since he had not spoken before, she started a bit when he did. "And you remember Mr. Peabody from the castle."

" Oh,yes. Hello. How did you find us? Dr. Watson said that you would."

"I think silence would be in order, at least until we find out where our missing maniac has gotten to."

"Yes, that's a good idea,"came a voice from behind them, "but, you see, I'm right here, so you don't have to be quiet. Not now. But, as you can see, I am armed. So, if you all would be so kind as to accompany me..." he gestured with the revolver in his hand. "If I were you, I'd move, and make it fast. I'm not in a patient mood right now."He motioned down the trail.

At that moment, there was a yip, a rending of cloth, and a scream from the Major. While the gun was pointed at the ceiling, he had reflexively tightened his grip. The result was a rockfall that buried the Major.

Tuffy trotted up to Watson and put the seat of the Major's trousers on the ground in front of him.

A few hours later, Watson came out of Major Porter's room, wiping his hands on a towel. He made his way over to the library and sat down by Holmes. Holmes looked up and asked "Well?"

"He has several broken bones and a very bad concussion. I set his bones and casted them. His wife is watching over him. He cannot remember anything that happened after the banquet we had on our first night here. His wife is sticking by him. That's real love, Holmes. He should be fine, but it will take a while. His wife will hire a nurse to help take care of him. I've given him something for the pain, and I will look in on him in a few hours." He felt suddenly tired, and put his head in his hands. After a few minutes he raised his head. "Holmes, we still have no idea who killed the agent, or Bruce Cartwright. And what the hell did I see in the banquet hall that night? I'm not sure that I am ready to believe in ghosts yet."

"Nor I, old friend. There are a few hours yet before the banquet they are throwing in our honor. Let us go to our rooms and rest. We will talk later, and examine the room again. We must have missed something. We may see it with fresh eyes."

"Holmes, that sounds like a good idea, the part about rest especially so. I 'm absolutely exhausted."

Together they headed toward their adjoining rooms.


	19. Chapter 19

The Case of the Vindictive Spirit, Chapter the Nineteenth.

Watson awoke, feeling refreshed even though he had rested only a few hours. He looked at the chair by the bed. Someone had laid out all of his clothes, right down to the cufflinks. There was a nice dark grey suit with white piping, a starched white shirt, a grey tie, grey shoes and—oh, my—a set of pearl cufflinks that he had never seen before. All he had to do was tend to his ablutions and get dressed.

He had cleaned up and dressed, and was combing his hair when he saw it. He was not alone. Slowly he turned to face his visitor.

She was not very tall. In addition,dripping wet and barefooted, leaving small footprints. She ran her fingers through her tangled hair as she paced, leaving small, bare footprints. She looked mournfully at the beautiful Persian rug, and then looked back up at Watson. Then she simply vanished.

Watson sank down into the chair that, by a stroke of good fortune, just happened to be directly behind him. A few moments later he sprang up and headed for the door that led to Holmes' room.

Watson threw open the door, eliciting a yelp of surprise from the detective. He grabbed for the bathroom door, but when he saw the state that his friend was in, he came out, drying his hands. Holmes walked over to Watson.

"Watson, what is it? You look like you have seen a ghost!" He took Watson by the arm and guided him to a chair.

"That's just it, Holmes, I did see her again! I was just combing my hair, and I saw something moving in the mirror. I turned around, and there she was!"

Watson eagerly accepted the brandy Holmes was handing out to him. He tossed it back in one large gulp.

"Come take a look, Holmes! It only happened a few minutes ago."

Holmes followed Watson back to his room, but nothing seemed to be out of place. Holmes looked at Watson.

"Holmes, I know what I saw, and it was her. She was pacing here, looked down at the rug, and vanished."

Holmes started to pace with his chin in his hand.

Watson asked him something that was on his mind. "You do believe me, don't you?"

"Of course I do. You told me everything that you saw. Now we just have to determine what it means...Watson, this floor feels different around the rug from how it feels when I step on the rug. Help me to move this rug, and let us take a look."

They both grabbed the rug and had it moved in a matter of seconds.

They saw a trapdoor that had a huge iron ring in the middle of it. Since the iron ring was flush with the trapdoor, the rug had hid it effectively. They pulled the door open and saw a stone staircase leading down into the darkness. Before either of them could do more than look, the grandfather clock by the wall boomed out the hour.

"Holmes, we need to go now, or we'll be late. We can scarcely be late for a banquet thrown partly in our honour."

"You're right. Much as I would love to investigate, to do so would mean a social faux pas."

They met Miss Brownlee on the grand staircase to the banquet room. She looked rested and a little bit breathless. Together, they entered the banquet hall.

Dinner was a very enjoyable affair. Everyone was cheered

by the fact that they were back from the tunnels. At any rate, the three were elated to be back. Somehow, Mrs. Peabody found out what Watson's favorite foods were, and served them, right down to the roly-poly pudding. Everything was just right. Holmes did not even complain when his place was directly next to Miss Brownlee's. He seemed to be far more tolerant toward her now. Holmes held her chair out for her, and she slid into it gratefully.

"You know, it is kind of tiring to be back. I've been answering questions all day. My jaws are tired from answering them."

Finally, it had to end, just as all good times do. Sleepy people headed to their rooms. Holmes and Watson were no exception.

As soon as Holmes got to his room, he went through the adjoining door to Watson's room.

With Holmes in the lead, the two men headed down the stairs. The room opened up into a room with a lot of shelves in it. At the far end, there was a tunnel.

"Somehow, I don't think we are in the wine cellar," murmured Watson.


	20. Chapter 20

The Case of the Vindictive Spirit, Chapter the Twentieth

Holmes exclaimed softly "It looks like we are right in the middle of a smuggling ring. Hist! Someone's coming."

He took Watson's hand and led him in between an old cabinet and the wall.

In the nick of time, too, for two men came down the staircase Holmes and Watson had descended just a few moments ago.

"Grand luck, findin' this place. How did you know where to look for it?"

"Luck had nothing to do with it. I found a book in the library that said it was in the castle somewhere, but it didn't say where. I surreptitiously searched all the rooms until I found it."

"Didn't anyone suspect you?"

"A couple of people did, but I took care of them. Quit it with the questions if you don't want to be taken care of, too."

"Is that a threat?"

"No, gentlemen do not make threats. We make promises. And don't you think for a moment that I won't keep it if you cross me."

Just then, the two men walked into Watson's view. One he recognised as Professor White. The other man he had never seen before. He had brown eyes and sandy-coloured hair. He was about five feet tall and was on the thin side. Blast! He wished they would get closer to him so that he could see them better. His thoughts were interrupted when he saw a man walking down the tunnel.

"Well, you decided to grace us with your presence."

The Professor's voice sounded impatient.

"Where have you been?" demanded the professor.

"Oh, talkin' to a mate o' mine. He was tellin'me sumpthin' very interestin' he was. He told me that there are two blokes from Londin that come down to see about how you been takin'

care o'things. I think we oughtta lay low till those guys go back ta Londin and tell 'em nothin's goin' on."

"That is why I don't pay you two to think. You'll do as I say or you know what will happen. And if those two give me any grief, I'll take care of them. Don't you worry about that. Now, did you find out the times, berths, and cargoes like I asked?"

The third man held out a crumpled piece of paper. "OK, you're the boss. But I still don't like it."

"Well, it is a good thing you don't have to like it. As you so aptly put it, I am the boss. Thank you," he said as he snatched the paper from the man. "Is there anything else?"

"No, sir," said both men in unison as he dug in his pockets and gave several coins to each man.

"This ought to ease your consciences a bit." Professor White headed toward the stairs back to Watson's room. When he was about halfway up the stairs, he called over his shoulder, "Drink it in good health." After the trapdoor clanged shut, the first fellow spoke up. "Someday someone's gonna clean his clock, and I want to be there to see it when they do."

The other man came over to him and patted him on the shoulder. "Don't let that cheeky little bastard get to you, Herm.

The paycheck we get from him is the best thing we have goin' for us. But things will change."

The two men walked down the tunnel in the far end of the room and disapeared into the darkness.

Holmes and Watson squeezed back out from their hiding place. "Well, that was informative,"said Holmes. He narrowed his eyes and said, "Maybe you ought to keep your Webley close at hand. He knows that I'm here, and it is only a matter of time before he puts two and two together and gets Watson.

If he hasn't already."

Watson was touched. "All right, Holmes, I will. What do you think is being smuggled?"

Holmes looked around and said "We won't know until we look around. I'll take this side of the room. Can you take that side of the room? We can meet in the middle, and take a moonlit stroll if you feel up to it. It would be good to find out where this tunnel comes out."

When they met in the middle of the room, Holmes asked, "Well, Watson, did you find anything?"

"Other than a map of the area, nothing. What about you?"

"Absolutely nothing. Do you feel up to a walk?"

"Yes, let's go. But we have to make it quick. Someone might get suspicious."

"Yes, you're right. Come on."

Holmes and Watson walked down the tunnel, which was not very long.

"We'd best get back, Holmes."

"No," said a new voice. The two men that they had seen with Professor White stepped out of the shadows, each with a gun trained on them.

"You'd best turn around and go back to our little meetin' house. And if you don't, we can arrange a case of lead poisoning for you both!"


	21. Chapter 21

The Case of the Vindictive Spirit, Chapter the Twenty-First

Holmes and Watson were tied two chairs in the smuggler's den that they had left moments ago.

"Exactly what did you find out?" asked Herm.

"Well, we found out what your boss is like. He thinks he's the bee's knees. He isn't giving you nearly as much as you are worth for all you do for him, is he?"

Herm looked at the detective suspiciously. "What are you sayin'?"

"Merely that if you were in my employ, I would do better than that for you," said Holmes.

Herm sat down by the detective. "And just what would you do differently, mate?"

"Well, for one thing, I would not disrespect you like that. And for another, I would pay you better."

"Oi, Sherm, are you hearin' this?"

"Aye, Herm. Are you thinkin' what I'm thinkin',"came the reply. " If the jobs are still open, we'll take 'em."

"Are you still of a mind to hire my brother and I?" Herm asked Holmes.

"Yes, but first you have to let us up,"said Holmes. " Then we can talk."

"Yes, yes, sorry about that."

"It is all right, you were only protecting your interests. Perfectly understandable, eh,Watson?"

"Oh, of course."

"So what is this job?"asked Sherm.

"Well, I'm the bloke from London who was sent down here to sniff around. What I want you to do is to do what you always do for the Professor and then come and tell me or Watson here. Is that satisfactory?"

"Yes, it is. I think we're gonna like this. What is our pay gonna be?"Sherm seemed to be the spokesman for the two brothers.

"What are you being paid now?" asked the detective.

"A pound a week,"said Sherm.

" I would not feel right unless I paid you at least three pounds each," sniffed the detective. "What do you think, Watson?"

"I think that sounds fair, Holmes."

"Blimy, Sherm, that does sound nice. What do you say?" asked Herm.

"It suits me fine. When do we start?"

"Tomorrow," said Holmes. "Since it is late, we will say" goodnight to you gentlemen. Remember, say nothing about us, and tell us everything about Prof. White. Goodnight, gentlemen."

Holmes and Watson ascended the staircase back to Watson's room listening to Herm and Sherm chorusing "Good night."

When the trapdoor clanged shut, Holmes and Watson exchanged a long look, and promptly dissolved into twin paroxysms of silent laughter. When they finished laughing, Holmes stated smugly, " It seems that years of studying the nascent trends of the socio-economic factors among the working class in our society has finally paid off."

Watson stared at him for a moment. "Stuff and nonsense, Holmes. If they weren't sick to the teeth of how they were being treated, we would still be tied up down there, and you know it!"

"I know, I know, old man. But it sounds so much better my way," Holmes laughed. Watson chuckled. He was glad to see Holmes have a bit of genuine merriment. They were more frequent now than they had been. He really approved of the change, even if he did feel the need to check on Gladstone more often.

He was startled from his musings by Holmes smacking his fist into the opposite hand. "It won't do, Watson. It just will not do. I refuse to admit the fact that we searched the smuggler's den, and found nothing. Watson, do you know what the odds would be of us finding NOTHING? Not even a scrap of paper? It can only mean one thing—we need to look again."

"Holmes, why don't you just ask Herm or Sherm? I am sure that they would tell you. I think they like you," chuckled Watson, ducking a pillow.

"Oh, yes. I really don't trust either one of them as far as I can throw them. You see the effect some kind words and some money had on them? Don't trust them with anything you wouldn't say to the Professor. They are probably going to play both ends against each other."

"Ah, did I hear my name? Couldn't sleep? Me neither." Professor White strode into the room.


	22. Chapter 22

The Case of the Vindictive Spirit, Chapter the Twenty-Second

Professor White strode up to Holmes.

Watson was glad that the rug was back in place. Then his eyes caught a rumpled place in the rug. He quietly smoothed it over with his foot and fervently hoped that the Professor had not seen it.

"Then shall I get a cup of tea for the Professor, also?" he asked for all the world as if they had been casually discussing tea a moment before. Holmes caught this and replied "Yes, that would? be good. You'll join us, won't you?"

"Perhaps some good, hot tea will help. Yes, please,"replied the other man.

Holmes waved the Professor to a chair by the fire, and sat down in the chair opposite.

"So, tell me, how do you like your holiday here in the country, Mr. Holmes?"asked Professor White.

Holmes thought for a moment. "Oh, I think that I can safely say that it has been my most memorable holiday so far."

"Yes, I suppose it would be." agreed the professor. "Unless you get kidnapped on all your holidays, of course."purred the Professor.

"Thankfully, no." said the detective. "But how are you enjoying your holiday here?"

"It would be rather dull if not for the excellent library they have here. Their collection of books is quite extensive, especially the books on the origin of the spoken word. You should take a look sometime." pointed out the Professor.

"Yes, I just might do that. Thank you for letting me know about that. Ah, Watson, let me help you with that." Holmes had entertained the idea of using their aliases, but now that their cover story had been blown to bits, it would not hurt to use their names. Holmes took the tray from Watson. He took two cups from the tray and handed one to the Professor.

Watson collected his cup of tea and sat down. Holmes just leaned against the bookcase. After trading a bit of small talk, the Professor left.

Holmes waited a moment, and then slipped out the door. About three quarters of an hour later, he returned.

"Where were you?" asked Watson.

"I followed the Professor to his rooms. He snores, you know. Then I asked Mrs. Peabody to take a telegram to the station for me."

"A telegram? To whom?" asked Watson.

"To Mycroft. I wanted to know how much he can tell us about our Professor. Then I leisurely walked back here, and here I am. I do not think that we will have a better chance to search the smuggler's den."

"Why do you say that—Holmes! What did you drug the man with?"

"Don't worry, my dear doctor. It is a simple sleeping draught that I palmed from your bag over there when the Professor was not looking."

"Is nothing safe from you?"

"No. He should wake refreshed tomorrow morning with no idea that he had any help getting to sleep, which, by the way, he said he could not do, so look at it this way:we have helped the man."

"We? What we?" asked Watson.

"Are you ready to go exploring again?"

"Of course. How do you think that we should go about this?"

"I think we should do exactly the same as we did last time, but this time we will each search the opposite side of the room."

"All right." Watson said. "Come on."

Together they moved the rug and descended the stairs.

About five minutes later, Cassandra knocked on the door, which opened under her hand. "Dr. Watson?"she said hesitantly as she walked into the room. She spied the open trap door and walked over to it. After a moment's thought, she started to creep down the stairs. She reached the bottom of the stairs and saw the doctor and Holmes searching the room.

They heard her step at the same time and whirled around When Watson saw that it was Cassandra, he sagged against the wall in relief. "Cassandra, you're going to give me a heart attack one of these days. You should go back to your room. These are dangerous people we are dealing with."

"And let you have all the fun? You don't know how boring it is being a woman. And another thing-" At that moment she fell off the last stair and knocked a couple barrels over. They hit the ground with a curiously loud crash.

Watson ran over and helped Cassandra up. He cast a reproachful glance over at his companion. Holmes was tapping on the barrels that Cassandra had just knocked

over. After a moment, he straightened and brushed off the knees of his pants. "I believe that I know what is being smuggled out of here."

"What?" asked Watson.

"Huh?" asked Cassandra.

"Barrels." answered Holmes.

"Holmes, have you flipped -"began Watson.

"No, no, I am just fine, my friend. Look, the staves of these barrels are hollow. I wonder what they would be full of. It's ingenious, really."

Holmes picked up a crowbar leaning against the corner and caved in one of the barrels. He picked up a bunch of white stones that fell out of a hollowed-out stave from the ruined barrel.

"When these are tested, I think that we will find that these are diamonds." said Holmes.

"Oh, I can save you some time. They are diamonds." said a voice on the stairs. Professor White stood just behind Cassandra. In his hand was a wicked—looking gun.


	23. Chapter 23

The Case of the Vindictive Spirit, Chapter the Twenty-Third

Mycroft read the telegram from his brother for about the third time. "What has he gotten himself into this time? Better find out what I can dig up about this Professor White. He does seem to have trouble with Professors." He rang a service bell on his desk and an aide came running.

"Ah, Charles. I need you to find out all you can about a Professor White. And hurry on this one."

The aide dipped his head, took the telegram, and left.

Mycroft strode over to his ornate mahogany desk and sat down. Something was wrong. He did not often get this feeling in the pit of his stomach, but when he did, it meant trouble. And Sherlock was usually involved, somehow.

He settled back in his chair to wait for Charles to come back with some news.

Back in the smuggler's den, Professor White pointed with the barrel of the gun to three chairs. The trio sat, and were tied up tightly in a matter of minutes.

"I know who you are, and what you are here for, Mr. Holmes. Do you really think that I would actually drink anything you gave me? Or your lapdog, there, for that matter? And you seem to know my business, too, so I guess we are even. Did you know that this room is underwater each night? I am going back to my room now, and you three can just sit here and watch the tide come in, and in, and in, until it covers you all up. Then I'll have those idiots that I am cursed to depend on for manual labor bury you so deep that no one will ever find you."

"One thing is not completely clear, however," said the detective.

"Why should I tell you anything?" growled the Professor.

"Well, I hate to leave anything unresolved. Anyway, what harm could it do now? You're only going to kill us anyway."

"Well, I suppose that it would not hurt anything at this point." said the Professor. "Just what did you wish to know?" he asked, his ego stoked.

"Was it you who killed the agent?"asked Holmes. "Did he suspect something? And what about Bruce Cartwright? He was in your way too, wasn't he?"

"My, but you are a curious person. About the agent, yes, I did kill him. He saw too much and drew too many conclusions, so I had to get him out of the way. And I read a very helpful book about the legends of the castle. It was right here in the library. So I killed him and arranged the footprints around. But then Bruce found out and threatened to turn me in. I could not let him hamper my plans like that, so the 'ghost' had to strike again. And no one was the wiser, until you showed up. But that will soon be mended. I bid you adieu."

He leaned close to Holmes. "That means good-bye," he snarled.

In the background, men were quietly coming out of the tunnel. When Cassandra noticed this, her eyes grew wide. Seeing this, the Professor looked over his shoulder. He saw the men coming toward them, and started to run.

As he was passing Watson, both the doctor and the chair he was tied to reared up and fell on the man. They landed in a tangle of arms and legs.

By then the men had reached them. The first man to reach them pulled a gun and ordered the Professor to sit down. As he had no other choice, he did as ordered. The others started to untie Holmes, Watson, and Cassandra.

In the midst of all this action, Mycroft strode out of the tunnel. Walking over to his brother, he said , "I am gratified to see that we were in time."

"What brings Jupiter out of its orbit?" asked Holmes.

"I just...had a feeling, brother mine. And when I read about how dangerous this Professor was, oh, he is a wanted murderer and jewel thief, by the way, I had to come down and make sure that you two were all right."

"You were concerned? Why, Mycroft, you are mellowing out in your old age."

"Nonsense, brother mine. When an agent is killed or injured in the line of duty, the paperwork is appalling. When a

civillian working for us is injured, the paperwork is simply monstrous. I wanted to come down here with some of our resident muscle to make sure that there was no need to attend to any additional deskwork, if possible. I will see you tomorrow at the club. Your ride to London leaves in forty-five minutes. You need to be on it. Good night and Godspeed."

Having said this, he began the walk back up the tunnel.

Holmes and Watson exchanged glances and ran to their rooms to pack. They were packed in twenty minutes and still saying their good-byes in front of the castle when a hansom pulled up, and a large man climbed down from the box. He opened the door for them and said, "Get on in, mind your step and watch your heads. I'm trying to outrun a storm headed for London." He pushed their bags in after them, and they sped off into the night.

I owe you all a great big 'thank you'. When I first started writing, I was in a really dark place. By writing reviews and other stories, you gently led me back into the light. Thank you so, so much. Enough of that, virtual cookies for everyone! And you know who you are.


	24. Chapter 24

The Case of the Vindictive Spirit, Chapter the Twenty-Fourth.

A/N- A great big 'thank you' to all of you who read and then took the time to review. And a virtual cake to Cat, who betaed this.

The carriage dropped them off at the flat in Baker Street and the driver gave Holmes a letter from Mycroft. The letter was short and to the point. "Sherlock, I need your help," it said. "I will fill you and the doctor in on the details of this case tomorrow at my office. This carriage will pick you up tomorrow at 12.00," Holmes read.

They each took several bags and headed upstairs. As they ascended the stairs, big, fat raindrops began to fall around them.

"Keys, keys, ah!" Holmes unlocked the door and nudged it open with his foot.

"You first, old boy."

They went upstairs with their luggage, hoping that Mrs. Hudson had left a cold supper out for them, but none was to be seen.

To their surprise, the door to the sitting-room opened, and Mrs. Hudson entered, carrying a tray laden with supper.

"Mrs. Hudson, you are an angel among men," murmured Watson.

"Hungry men, you mean. Eat up before it gets cold." laughed their landlady. " Come on, Mr. Holmes, tuck in. Everything else can wait until you are done."

Immediately they tore into the stew with dumplings and the apple pie with cheddar cheese on top.

"I have a feeling of well-being," said Watson. 1. He patted his stomach.

"You mean you are full to bursting," said the detective, who was busy ransacking their bags in pursuit of their pipes.

"What are you looking for?" asked Watson.

"Our pipes." replied the detective.

"Oh,here you go, old man." Watson went over to the bags and retrieved their pipes. He held out Holmes' pipe to him. With a muttered "Thanks," Holmes took it.

Watson smiled to himself. Such victories were rare, but that is what made them all the more enjoyable.

"Aah, it is good to be home." said Watson.

"Would you care to share a pipe?" asked Holmes.

"Please do," said Watson.

Finally Watson spoke up. "What do you think Mycroft wants?"

" It is probably a} sensitive matter, b} involving a famous person or c} a politically active person."

"Well, he is not going to tell us until tomorrow, so why don't we get some sleep so that we can be fresh for tomorrow?" suggested Watson.

"That is a good idea," said Holmes. "Good night, Watson."

"Good night, Holmes."

They headed for their bedrooms. Sleep was not long in coming to either of them.

When Holmes woke up, he could hear Mrs. Hudson at his bedroom door. "Mr. Holmes, get up and get ready! Your ride will be here in an hour, and your breakfast is on the table! I'll go and wake the doctor..."

He could hear her humming as she ascended the stairs.

"Wakey, wakey, doctor! Your breakfast is in the sitting-room, and your ride gets here in an hour. Get ready!" She went back downstairs to get her tea.

In a few minutes , Watson came down to the sitting-room.

" Good morning. I trust you slept well?" inquired Holmes.

"Like the proverbial rock. And you?"

"Like a log. As soon as my head hit the pillow, I was gone."

They sat in silence for a bit. Finally, Watson spoke up. "Holmes, have you given any thought to what I saw in the banquet hall the night we found Bruce Cartwright? And again, the night we found the smuggler's den?"

"Yes, I have,"answered the detective, avoiding Watson's gaze.

After a moment, Watson tried again.

"And..."

"And I have no idea what it may have been."

"You mean to tell me that you think I actually DID see a ghost? And that it led me to the body and the cave?"

"At this point, I cannot exclude the supernatural, since I have no alternate explanation to give you." Holmes admitted.

Watson happened to glance at his watch. "Holmes, I hate to change the subject, but we have about thirteen minutes to get ready!"

They both hurried to their rooms to get ready. Both of them met in the sitting-room with a minute and a half to spare. They grabbed their hats, sticks, and coats and stepped out on the sidewalk just in time to see the carriage from the previous night pull up. The driver jumped down from his box and opened the door for them.

"As there is no storm to outrun, you'll be seeing some of my saner driving today. Mind your heads."

It did not seem too long until they reached their destination.

Their driver opened the door for them, and said "This way, gents."

He led the way up the steps, nodding at a gardener as he went.

Inside the building, there were statues, brocade drapes, and other opulent furnishings. Watson would have loved to look around, but he obediently trotted after the carriage driver and Holmes.

The driver had a quick word with a man at a large desk near the front of the room. The man nodded and pulled a nearby bell-pull. Another man came out from a back room and introduced himself.

"My name is Hopkins. Please follow me."

When he moved out of earshot, Holmes whispered "I thought he'd never stop talking. Mind the stairs."

Their guide led them up and down so many halls, through many rooms and finally stopped in front of an office. He held the door for them and said "You are expected."

Mycroft motioned them to overstuffed chairs, and offered them some scones.

"Could you bring up three cups of tea, Hopkins? Thank you."

Hopkins gave a slight bow, and left.

Mycroft greeted them and said "I hope that you have slept well."

"Yes, we did. I don't believe that you called us here to exchange small talk. What is it?"

"You're right. There has been a murder, and here are the particulars. An ambassador has been murdered, beaten to death. The murder weapon was not found. The most intriguing fact of the case is that the victim was found upon cursed ground!"

1. This is a quote from H. Marion Crawford, who played Watson in 'The Casebook of Sherlock Holmes'. I do not know which episode it was in. If anyone out there knows, could you drop me a line and let me know?


End file.
